The Portrait of Zool

One reason I tweak so much is because I am very sensitive (probably too sensitive) to the syntax and rythms of what I am writing. I try to edit to shorten and clarify, because 'Brevity is Beautiful' - and focusing the writing is always good. Shortening a sentence or even changing one word can completely change the rythm of a paragraph, which then can affect the whole section, so I tend to edit the rest of the section to keep the proper tone and meter. Also, I tend to have problems with verb-tense, so when I re-read I'll find that I screwed it up and have to fix it, which then causes a lot of other edits as per the above. Revising my earlier description, I guess I'd have to say I'm 50% Basher and 50% Swooper.

My own writing style is a study in haphazardness. A lot depends on the inspiration. I may have a scene, or a phrase, or some sort of overall message I already have in mind to start with, but no more. I've written stories from the end, or fleshed out from the middle, or from beginning to end based on an opening situation. I neither swoop nor bash. I often rewrite heavily as I go. Occasionally I will write the key scenes quickly, then go back and fill in the detail, transitions, or any introduction or resolution that is needed. After I have all the pieces of a story, I will then go back again and heavily re-write. On the old AM boards if I would let the edit tags pile up (I usually erased them) I would often have a string of over a dozen. Finally the tweaks would slow until I was satisfied.

Truly, anything can be considered 'offensive' by anyone else. This is not to say I subscribe to relativism; manipulating, harming, or unjustifiably hurting another is wrong no matter who you are. The line between ethics and offensiveness can be a shadowy and slippery animal, but I think you were close Rev in your observation about comfort levels - but why project our comfort levels over what others should do, say, or even find joyous? It is, unfortunately a common thing these days to take one's own duties lightly, yet make heavy demands of the world - that it should conform to our own way of thinking, for example. This, to me, is a complete inversion of responsibility. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. In fact, any metaphysical value is in the eye of the perceiver, an incontrovertable consequence of us being our individual selves. And there, to me, is the key to the whole issue. Some things I have control of and most things I don't, so let me act accordingly and take my own duties and responsibilities heavily, and the world very lightly, for then, and only then, can we truly all be joyous together, in openness and acceptance.

I am sooo late... Happy B-day Finn.

Isn't it odd how 'elimination of offense' quickly sucks the life out of any interaction?

I've got my aluminum pole - how about you?

(from an email) I wanted to send out some sort of holiday greeting to my friends, but it is so difficult in today's world to know exactly what to say without offending someone. So I met with my attorney yesterday, and on his advice I wish to say the following: Please accept with no obligation, implied or implicit, my best wishes for an environmentally conscious, socially responsible, low stress, nonaddictive, gender neutral celebration of the winter solstice holiday, practiced within the most enjoyable traditions of religious persuasion or secular practices of your choice with respect for the religious/secular persuasions and/or traditions of others, or their choice not to practice religious or secular traditions at all. I also wish you a fiscally successful, personally fulfilling, and medically uncomplicated recognition of the onset of the generally accepted calendar year 2006, but not without due respect for the calendars of choice of other cultures whose contributions to society have helped make America great (not to imply that America is necessarily greater than any other country or is the only "America" in the western hemisphere) and without regard to the race, creed, color, age, physical ability, religious faith, or sexual preference of the wishee. By accepting this greeting, you are accepting these terms: This greeting is subject to clarification or withdrawal. It is freely transferable with no alteration to the original greeting. It implies no promise by the wisher to actually implement any of the wishes for her/himself or others and is void where prohibited by law, and is revocable at the sole discretion of the wisher. This wish is warranted to perform as expected within the usual application of good tidings for a period of one year or until the issuance of a subsequent holiday greeting, whichever comes first, and warranty is limited to replacement of this wish or issuance of a new wish at the sole discretion of the wisher. Disclaimer: no trees were harmed in the sending of this message however, a significant number of electrons were slightly inconvenienced.

My goodness! Hiya!

Hiya BP... I don't know much about webhosting, as I've never had a site of my own, but if I was going to do such a thing it seems to me that in all actuallity, given the hoops and pains many 'free' sites are famous for, that it would be better to cough up the small monthly amount for a space legally your own, rather than be subject to the whims and conditions of the alternative. In all my years one thing that's been truer than most is you get what you pay for... just my two sense... Good luck on your project.

....The farwinkle gets confunkled with the derwhoppin." His neighbor looked at him in consternation, replying, "But what of the...

Congratulations to one and all! :woot:

We all need/take breaks occasionally. I hope you find what you are looking for in yours. *As he speaks Zool's appearance morphs into that of an Ancient chinese sage, with ornate green silk robe, silk box hat and long Fu-manchu moustache.* "You must go out into the world Grasshopper," says Zool in a terrible oriental accent, "As the bird leaves the nest to find it's worm, as the..." Suddenly the rubber chicken pokes it's naked head out of the green robe, takes a quick look around, snaps up one end of Zool's fake moustache in his rubbery beak, then tries to dive back into the robe. Unfortunately Zool's magical paint makes him one with the moustache... "GAAAAAAAAAAHHHGH!!!!!"

27 years ago today was a very momentous occasion for the Pen, being the very day that Yui Chan was born! :woot: The very best Birthday Wishes Yui - and may you have many more!

As you undoubtedly just read, Wyvern and I took in the Denizen Kane, Mestizo, and Royce concert together. Wyvern asked me to do a review on the show, and I don't want to let him down. First of all, I want to give Wyv a big "Thank you!" for inviting me to the show. I had a blast! I probably would have had even more fun if I had let it happen, because Evern can come up with some of the most outrageous things to do, and half the time my immediate response was something like, "Uhh, I don't know..." For example, he had brought some Mad-Lib books to fill any extra moments left lying around, and while we were waiting for the show to start he had whipped one out and we were giving it a go. Then, he noticed Denizen Kane was sitting alone in the booth next to us, so he says something like, "I'm going to ask him for an adjective," and I'm like, "Uhh, I don't know..." Thinking about it, it would have been SO COOL to have done a Mad-Lib with Denizen Kane, two-time champion of the HBO Def Poetry Jam!! What went through my head though was something like "We probably shouldn't bother him..." I have to hand it to Evern, he DID NOT rip my arm out of my hawaiian shirt and beat me over the head with it as I so richly deserved, but showed his mettle, and stoically let the once an eternity opportunity pass on by. Props to you Ev, and a big promise from me that I'll try to get out more! Also, I had never participated in the Pen Mad-Libs, considering it more of a forum game, but durring the night he sold me on the fun and imagination stretching properties of Mad-Lib wordplay! I wound up buying a couple of Mad-Lib books and look forward to participating in future Pen Mad-Libs. But on with the show. I think Wyv reported the technical aspects of the show rather brilliantly, and as a guy weaned on Lawrence Welk I can certainly tell in this instance when someone is far more qualified to review than I. Suffice it to say that I loved the show. The performers were all obviously very professional and competant. You could tell that they took their business very seriously, and worked very hard at it. Not only that, but the music just made you want to move! I think Mestizo was the over all crowd favorite, and Wyvern was definitely Mestizo's favorite! It was a small venue, with about 50 or 60 in the audience, and we easily maintained stage front positions. Mestizo remarked a couple of times on Wyvern's energy and enthusiasm, and I have to agree. For the record, his dancing is NOT spastic as one reviewer wrote, but I thought it was simply good energetic electric-mojo locomotion - the kind that happens when one is doing something one loves. I wouldn't be surprised if the denigrating reviewer himself was not a dancer, and was in fact simply JEALOUS. Denizen Kane did seem to be the more musical of the two, though things were rather fluid, with Denizen Kane and Mestizo, Royce band members, and Mike Gao and Danone backing each other up and taking different positions throughout the night. One got the impression the Galopagos4 label was a very close knit group. After it was all done though, I still had one question I just couldn't figure out. Why didn't Mestizo sweat? I was down on the floor sweating my brains out, but he was up on stage workin' it hard, had like four shirts on with a sweat shirt with a hood which he kept over his head, and I couldn't see that he broke a sweat at all! Ah well, as with anything magical, there always has to be some element of mystery. :wizzie: [EDIT: I'm sorry man, but did you have to misspell the word in BIG, BOLD type? Fixed it --Tzimfemme] (LOL! Yeah, it figgers. Thanks Tzim. )

To the Mad King, a toast to battles of old. To Arwen, a wish for future peace and happiness. To both - Happy Birthday! :woot:

(OOC: Sorry about the long reply and long time coming, I am terribly rusty and pressed for time - hope to do better in the future!) "Order in the court!" Ordered Judge Katzaniel with another slam of her gavel for emphasis. The sharp thwack pierced the excitement like a mosquito on a Rhino's rump. "I said Order!!" she howled again, this time whamming her gavel several times. Satisfied the court was finally settling down she fixed her gaze on Zool. "Zool, step forward for your rebuttal." "With all due respect, your Honor, being one of the dimensionally challenged I require the assistance of my, err, assistant." Katzaniel nodded, signalling Grimmael to push the spindly tripod the enormous full sized standing Portrait of Zool was resting on toward the debate podium. He was almost there when one leg of the tripod caught in a chink in the floor. The tripod stopped immediately, but the portrait kept going... "AAAUUGH!!" screamed Zool as he toppled over. Fortunately nothing was protruding to endanger Zool, though as he fell his heavy frame smashed the podium and witness stand to kindling. The audience gasped. Zool lay sprawled in his forground. Katz's legs stuck out from underneath Zool's thick gilt frame like it was a house and she was the wicked witch of the east. Then, something else oozed from under the enormous painting... Orange juice. A produce truck was called, but it was too late. After starting from the ground up, the young innocent orange had come to the debate only to buy the farm. "That's a definite debate penalty," said Grimmael glumly. Judge Katzaniel was helped to her feet. She was shaken but unhurt. "The orange has been assassinated!" shouted a distraught bystander. "Assassinated...?" said Clueless slowly, having missed most of the sequence of events but unable to miss the crashing of Zool's massive frame and the ensuing scramble. "Arrest that painting!" he shouted, pointing just in case anyone was confused as to which painting. The guards immediately surrounded The Portrait of Zool as the courtroom doors burst open, releasing the pent up reporters with cameras popping at the orange slick and the tumbled portrait on top of it, their recorders recording just in time to hear, "You have the right to remain silent..." * The next day * The portrait of Zool sat shackled to the wall of the courtroom with thick locks and steel chains. His face, now pained with the look of the hopelessly accused, peered out between the black bars newly painted over his canvas. "But I'm innocent!" he wailed. Katzaniel looked back levelly, replying, "Your crime was committed here in this very court. I myself am a witness. Jury, you are also witnesses. What do you say?" Everyone turned to the jury to see *gasp* they all indicated stems down. WHAM! The smack of the gavel made Zool jump so hard it rattled his chains. "The court hereby finds you GUILTY!. As punishment for your crime, you are to be mailed to a florida orange grove where you shall be ground up as fertilizer until dead." Wham! Before Zool could jump again he was ripped from his frame, rolled up and stuffed in a mailling tube. * A loooooooooong time later (having been sent US Mail Overnight)* Zool slowly roused from his foggy state by some muffled scratching sounds, then the sensation of lateral movement. A moment later he was suddenly blinking in a brightness as he was unfurled onto a large tabletop directly under a bright light. This was it - the hot florida sun! Zool groaned, and prepared himself to get ground into little pigmented canvas bits. "Are you okay?" asked a seedy voice. Hm? "Are you okay? the voice repeated. Zool steadied himself, then shuffled to one side to try to look through the bars that were still painted over him and see who was talking. To his amazement he saw... an appple. "Uhhh, I think so... Who are you?" "You can call me Mac," said the apple, who was reddish with green splotches." "You're not... You're not going to grind me up are you?" Zool instantly regretted asking, preferring instead to have avoided the whole subject. "Naaaw - we saved you!" "We?" asked Zool. "Sure! We at the Syndicate really appreciate what you di..." Another apple quickly rolled up and smacked Mac, cutting him off in mid 'did'. After giving Mac a sour look, the new apple, who was larger than the other one and a bright shiny green, smiled reassuredly (Of course, that's not a literal smile, as apples do not have mouths, but of course they can't talk either. Just imagine, if you will, that while the apples are described as doing these things, that they simply "Look" like that is what they are saying or doing, as the case may be, as this is actually what is happening.) at Zool and said, "Yes sonny, we saved you, because we thought you got a bum wrap! The pip-heads have a thick skin, but underneath they're all pulp! We weren't about to stand by and let such a travesty of justice be carried out, so we intercepted your mailling and mean to set you free!" "But Granny, you know that Sunkist..." The green apple smacked Mac again, harder this time, knocking him out cold and leaving a large dark bruise. "Uh," she said after turning back to Zool, "Silly boy's got silly notions in his head. Of course it happened just like I said, and no other." "I see," said Zool, actually thinking he did. Just then another apple came in, a big red round one. "Big Jon!" stepped in Granny before anything else could be said. "I was just explaining to Zool how we thought he had been framed, err, no pun intended, and had decided to help him out." "Yeeaah?" came the reply, a cross between a rumble and a croak. "Sssgoood." "If you want to help me out," interjected Zool, "How about turning down that light and getting rid of these bars?" The two apples looked at each other for a moment before Granny sprang to his aid, some secret message having been received from Big Jon's look. "Sure thing!" She turned down the light, then grabbed one corner of the painted bars on Zool's canvas and peeled them all off in one quick jerk. Wadding them up she threw them in a nearby trash can. "Ahh! Free at last!" said Zool with a bright smile and a wide sweep of his arms, and then of course didn't go anywhere. "Well... What's the plan?" Big Jon held up an arm, and said, "Onnin Igasssaay sumpin." What he meant to say was he wanted to take a moment because he had something to say, but of course his voice being so deep and gravelly and his apple accent being so harsh, dictating it correctly is very hard, and it is also incredibly annoying to read. Big Jon went on to say that he wished to further explain his altruism in releasing Zool, that it wasn't really about Zool so much as a far loftier fruititarianism. The debate in the courtroom that day wasn't really about apples and oranges, but about society itself, a society that concentrates on differences more than likenesses. Big Jon stated that he and his group were working toward a better tomorrow, a day when genus was no longer an issue, a day when fruit was not judged by the color of it's skin, but by the universal innate validity of it's juice! A day when apples and oranges would walk together as one, because really they are one, as are all living things in the universe! "That's so beautiful!" said Zool, who had started weeping into a handkerchief. "Oh! I can just... Imagine!" He then gave a long blast as he blew his nose. "There is just one thing... Why was there a burned citrus tree on the court lawn the morning of my trial?" Big Jon made a slicing motion across his throat to Granny and turned to leave. "Uh-oh..." said Zool, who suddenly realized he landed himself in yet another sticky situation.

Missed you around here! DO take better care of yourself!

Happy B-day!

Come on Doc, you gotta admit when he hit him in the head with the steak, THAT was funny! I thought Napolean Dynamite was definitely worth a rent.

"What if I use the rubber chicken as a brush?" "Cluck?!?" "Heh - Just kidding - but I am signing up!"

Oh yeah, definitely! :woot: Roses are red Violets are blue I'm not a poet but I still think you are a great one! Congratulations Reverie!

It wasn't too long before the Quincunx noticed a lumbering burlap covered bulk slowly making it's way towards their booth. Ants can carry 25 times their weight, and that is exactly the image brought to mind by the massive rectangular sail perched on the frail legs of Grimmael. Staggering somewhat from it's course, the strange sight arrived at the Quincunx accompanied by grunts, gasps, and wheezes, but did not immediately set down. Hovering unsteadily, the painting tilted slightly, then trembled a bit. With more grunts, and perhaps a few semi-silent curses, a large folding easel was snapped open with the flick of one unseen hand from behind the bulk and set onto the grass. Then, ever so slowly, almost ominously slowly, the huge package swung around, then back, scarily back, until when one thought it must never stop but would continue falling to the ground, but finally alighted into place onto the easel with a touch as light as a ghost. Grimmael dropped limply to the grass like a chainmail suit that had suddenly lost it's soldier under the shadow of his enormous burden. "Uhh... Hello..." came a hushed voice from under the rough fabric. Grimmael did not answer, but lay in a heap, panting heavily. "Umm... Grimmael... we aren't finished yet... I'm still covered!" hissed the voice in a loud whisper. Grimmael sighed, a hoarse rushing panting sigh that even made Tzimfemme wince. With much effort he reached up from where he lay and began pulling on one end of the voluminous cover. Working hand over hand, eventually the other end went over the top and slid down the front, burying Grimmael under a pile of burlap and revealling the Portrait of Zool. "Well hello!" boomed Zool with a bright smile and a bow. Dressed in his traditional black leather trimmed in red, his voo-bah hairdo seemed particularly flamboyant today, his mischievous grin particularly wide. "I take it we are at the Quincunx 'Kissy-Wissy Snookums Pie' kissing booth?" he asked, thankfully lowering his voice to normal and taking in the sign and bemusedly curious faces at the booth. "Maahvelos. Ladies, and child, I am honored to be here. Please allow me to present to you your very own Kissy-Wissy Snookums Pie..." Minta shrieked, and lacking any undead protection dove behind the counter. Zool paused, as though expecting something else to happen, but nothing did. Holding his pose, his painted eyes slowly turned to look towards the ground. As stealthily as he could, feeling all eyes on him, he signalled frantically to Grimmael. "Psst. Psssst! Grimmael! the pie! We need to give the pie!" Looking back up, he threw a strained smile at the remaining two of the Quincunx. A moment passed before the huge pile of dull cloth in front of the portrait stirred, then it parted as a skinny arm slowly emerged from between the great folds, holding up... an empty pie tin. Tzimfemme groaned and rolled her eyes, turning and walking to the back of the booth, but Rydia arose to receive the tin, murmuring, "Shiny..." As she approached the offered pie, and looked into it's shining interior, she stopped, and froze, her eyes widening in fascination, her face reflecting multiple bright hues and colors. The deeper she looked, the deeper she was drawn. "I can't cook, because my arms are only depicted ones, so I am afraid a more traditional pie was out of the question," blurted Zool, who suddenly felt the need to talk fast. "Of course I can't paint either, but Grimmael can, he was an artist in a life long ago..." Zool looked down towards the great pile of burlap, and seeing it didn't stir realized just how exhausted Grimmael must be. "One of rather great renown..." A foot shot out of the bottom of the pile, trembling with a spastic warning. Zool decided that was enough, and continued with his explanation. "...so the pie you see before you was painted by Grimmael under my direction and imbued with certain magical qualities from my own enchanted pigments as well," Zool said with another bow. "It... It's so..." intoned Rydia, her face a study of fascination. "Yes," agreed Zool proudly. "It is THE Kissy-Wissy Snookums Pie, a painting fantasy of young romantic love. There are actually a myriad of magical scenes within the pie. As each scene is focused upon it alone expands to fill the full attention of the observer. Each scene is designed to evoke sensations experienced in Kissy-Wissy Snookums love. For instance, here we see the suitor bringing a small but endearing gift to the young lady - a flower, or is that a teddy bear? Ah well, it doesn't really matter - notice how he had brought it through that battlefield, littered with shrapnel, barbed wire, mines, demons, snipers, and the occasional pyrotechnic explosion..." "Oooh!" said Rydia. "...uh, yes. This next scene is a lover's picnic at a golden sunset. Here our young lovers have felicitously brought a small supper into a beautiful meadow when suddenly the low sun lights the sky up a brilliant gold, casting a godlike glow over everything. Words of passion drop like molten gold from your lover's tongue, and then you both are running like children through the fields of your dreams, the meadow a golden paradise and the fabric from your clothes streaming behind you like a Maxfield Parrish vision." "Aaah!" said Rydia, her eyes wide. "...yess. In the next scene," continued Zool, somewhat looking askance at Rydia, "We find our young Kissy-Wissy Snookums Pie lovers striking out all on their own for the very first time. As they enter the mansion her daddy bought them and sit in the furniture given to them at their storybook wedding reception, he contemplates how he will ever make the top level job his father has given him work, while she counts the silver and polishes the chandeliers. Together they settle down to enjoy a long blissful domestitude." "Uuuh..." repeated Rydia, her face glowing with the brilliant colors from each scene of the painted pie in turn. "There are others but I think you get the picture. Ya know, Cupid's arrows have the keenest edge, but sting like marshmallows, covered in pixie stix sauce. Of course the primal motivation for romance is only alluded to obliquely in Kissy-Wissy Snookums practice, so I have stuck to the model. Isn't it odd that Cupid is always depicted nekkid?" "It's so... shiiiny!" ejaculated Rydia. "Uhh... yeah... that too, I suppose... umm... hello?"

A short while ago I saw Batman Begins. The film doesn't seem to have done all that great at the box office, which I find disappointing. Of all the Batman films, I really think this one is the best. I like the movie because in my opinion the movie really delivers a solid story. It delves deep into the psyche of Batman, his origin, his history, his technology, and his thinking. Christian Bale does a great job as the Dark Knight. It really gives you a believable background for a character as unlikely as Batman. One thing I found a bit of a let down is the explanation that all the Bat inventions are from an R&D department of Wayne enterprises. I was always under the impression Batman himself was the genius behind all those great gadgets. While this makes the character somewhat more believable, Batman is never really someone I envisioned with a technical support staff (even if most don't know where their developments eventually go to, it seems) - though it does make sense. There were a couple of real faux pas' in the movie. While the characterization and story are always really strong, a couple of spots in the action were completely flubbed. In one spot, there is (of course) a big car chase scene where Batman has to save a life but the police are chasing him. For some reason, (probably the producers, who thought it would be 'cool') Batman puts the Bat Wagon in "Stealth Mode". Suddenly, the police lose track of his car - even those driving right beside him, even the helicopter with the searchlight. He uses this time to plan a quick escape strategy, and then turns "Stealth Mode" off. Suddenly, everybody can see him again, but he makes a quick turn through a concrete barrier (?!) and drives off. What was the point of that? And if he really had a "Stealth Mode" wouldn't he have used that to escape? In another scene there is a train (which is made of aircraft aluminum) crashing though a reinforced concrete wall. Yeesh. Those flaws aside, for anyone interested in the story of Batman, I HIGHLY reccomend this movie. You won't be disappointed.

"Gah!" The portrait beamed an embarressed red. "I had meant to post here, and since I had PMed you kept putting it off - my apologies." BTW, very good organization so far - Katzaniel I commend you!

*Zool glances down from his portrait, eyebrows arching dramatically.* "Well thwap my chicken - it's Brute!" he said in astonishment The rubber chicken's head rises from it's usual pose of being flopped over Zool's arm and looks at the familiar but strange form of Brute in astonishment, gives an excited cluck of astonishment, then flops back down. "Exactly!" agreed Zool in astonishment. It's very astonishing (and good!) to see you here! :woot: